So today’s challenge was to write something totally crap. Like the worst thing ever, with no auto correct, typos still in, the worst possible thing.

Mine was about three runners at a marathon ‘Expo’. It was called ‘Expo in a position’. Yes. I know. Good hey? No.  They talked about running, talked more about running. nothing much happened. They talked about what colour trainers they liked.  There were some really clumsy flash backs, a contemporary dance expressing one of the characters feelings, I left all the mistakes in before corrected and then they talked about running some more. There was zilch subtext, every character expressed everything they were feeling and then the other character repeated that.

It is shite…but quite funny…but I’m  not happy about sharing it. Maybe one day if I get published with something better.

It was an  interesting prompt though as actually the harder I tried to write total shite, the more it got quite surreal, and actually morphed into a comedy sketch, so who knows, there may be a place for it somewhere.

Real running was short and sweet but I’m proud of how I’ve managed to keep it up. Not quite Eddie Izzard efforts but I’m still committed. A respectable 25 mins or so.

On the centenary of the 1918 Suffrage act, our prompt at 10 pm last night was to write something inspired by this great moment in history.

There are so many things I’d like to say about how important it was that women got the right to vote and to explore and recognise what lots of women fought for, but time was limited to 36 hours, a tight deadline. What I’ve ended up with is two teenage girls, best friends who decide to chain themselves to a railing as Emmeline Pankhurst did. They don’t change the world but they look out for each other, especially when one of them needs a pee.  Here is the play:  Entwined

I did a 42 min run and wrote the play on my phone when I stopped for a cuppa, tidying it up later at home. Should you really run every day for 28 days? I don’t know yet, but even though I was aching like hell this morning the repetition feels good for my mental health. Should you really try and write a play every day? It’s certainly a challenge. I’m just glad I didn’t follow through with trying to paint every day too: now that really would have been silly.

O.k so 5 plays in and…how many to go??!!

I thought Challenge 5 initially tricky as we were given the opening line and had to expand on it. I had no idea how I was going to make sense of the line in the context of a play, but it soon became clear that it was going to be set in a kitchen. My run was a slow steady run of around 30 mins. Legs were still aching from hill walking but it seems to help with the ideas flowing.

Here’s the play : Head chef

 Disclaimer: None of the characters presented  are based on any real people  (even though I spent a long time as a kitchen assistant hahaha) Also loving these new brooks running shoes! 

Challenge Four was to adapt a story, song, poem etc into a play. I picked ‘Waterloo Sunset’ by the Kinks. Needless to say the action unfolds with Terry meeting Julie, they meet at Waterloo station, they cross the bridge and then look at the sunset.  They don’t feel afraid or have any friends ( So wrapped up in their own romance to care- this might on reflection be a bad decision if they break up). There is however a mystery Train passenger in  my version who sees Julie every day on the way to work and is not happy about her attachment to Terry…I have no idea if I’m allowed to share this play for copyright reasons as features lines from the songs so here’s the song to enjoy:   Waterloo Sunset by The Kinks

My run was the best kind or run today, with company. My mate Lex has recently started running so we did a run/walk around Malvern for half an hour and then I egged her on to run the last ten minutes without walking. My legs are aching as we’d walked all the way up and down the Hills too yesterday and my brain is hurting from trying to come with ideas, but it’s all great fun and was  a fantastic weekend.

Day three is a crossover with Day four as we were away so I had to do this one very late on Friday night unable to do it on Saturday. You’ll probably be able to tell as at 12.45am I wrote some pretty bonkers stuff! But I’m allowing myself to write crap stuff….. It’s called ‘Junk’ ( And lives up to its name) but I’m quite proud of the Alien’s language which sounds a bit welsh and features Aliens and characters called Chroma, Alpha and Beta.   My run took me through the beautiful Malvern countryside, a respectable 30 mins but very slow as it’s very hilly.

Junk

Day 2/ Miles 2.17- 22.45 mins

Play ‘ Zaandam’

Zaandam

Day two’s challenge was great for me. get outside and look around. This worked great alongside of my running challenge. However, hungover and dehydrated, it was a very slow, short run and my mind worked even slower all day. Anyway, I eventually became inspired to write about a canal, in Holland and a blooming relationship between an unlikely couple! House chores already suffering hahah great fun though. No time to analyse how the running feeds the writing…yet.

Have to do no 3 tonight as going away!! ARGH!!

So having felt like I was swimming against the tide for some time and brushing myself down and starting all over again…and again and again, to my delight and surprise a little light has suddenly illuminated in the darkness.  We didn’t get the Arts council Grant first time round at the end of April but on second go after a fair few disappointed moans over coffee  we spoke to some people, put it straight back in again, our wounds licked, and hoped for  the best. And that is when we got we were hoping for. By waiting patiently and persisting.   It’s six years since I first noticed I had vocal problems, five since my right vocal chord was operated on, four since I did the London marathon and met Jo Harper,  my collaborator at a playwriting group led by  the amazing Jemma Kennedy.  Two years later  Jo and myself sat in a café catching up and  decided that, possibly, maybe, we could do something with this material and create a play based on these challenges of how a woman  loses her voice and tries  to find a way back to it.  Without the power in my voice I felt weak, useless, washed up and like I couldn’t recognise myself anymore. When you have spent so long relying on that tool not only as an expression of yourself but also your livelihood, it feels like you can no longer be yourself and  you have to re- invent a new version, one that doesn’t know what else its good at.  It was too upsetting and close to home for me to write myself and I may have played on the darkness and isolation of it all, it being one of the lowest times of my life, but by having Jo as the writer, it seemed we had found the ideal mix, I could share stories, she could bring them to life, without being too emotionally connected.  I had played with the idea around three years ago in Jemma’s class when she gave us  one of  her useful exercises where we had to write something that had happened to us, but merely the facts, without any flourishes. Jemma said that it was interesting as it’s a story of how one muscle fades and is broken but you look for another one to compensate. It went into my notebook and  there the seed was planted ready for a day when it was the right time. And this was it.We’re over the moon that we have finally got our Grants for Arts funding so that we can Research and develop our project Can you hear me running? 

It’s taken time, diligence, regular meetings, calls, advice seeking and workshop attending, but armed  with the right resources, we can finally make a small start on an idea. Because, weirdly enough, that’s why I went into this industry, to be creative but it seems like a luxury these days and not a given that you have room to be an artist.

Today as part of our research, I returned for the first time in five years to the ENT hospital where I was operated on and where I felt like my life as an actor was over. I met up again with the amazing speech and language therapist,  Ruth Epstein who helped me with the at times, incredibly challenging journey. I felt nervous and excited about going back but as I looked around kings cross and all the new shops and changes that have taken place in six years I reflected on how much has changed to myself too, how I took up running, took up writing, found a local job with lovely people, did still work and slowly manage to speak with ease again having had  at my worst been reduced to a breathy whisper.  Above all that, I remembered how small the kids were when I was in my ‘Have to be  silent phase’, how they couldn’t read and so communication was impossible, me trying sign to them or draw pictures to communicate. Somehow though, they came through, as they have with other challenges.

Sometimes it takes a while to be heard, especially when you feel like you’ve been burrowing underground, muffled both physically and mentally for some time. Things happen in life, major changes take place, our sense of security and hope is questioned but bit by bit you try to tend to those parts of yourself that feel broken or lost, you keep seeking out the little lights in the dark windows, painting it, writing it, running past it.. for what is there without hope? There’s sometimes a way out of feeling trapped, even if you’re  standing in the same place you were years ago. You have no choice but to look at things differently. And that’s why I’ll call this new painting little lights.